I can add a bit to my '54 lot car story which took place in 1963 when I was about fourteen. Later that same summmer I saw a '56 Dodge four-door sedan with V-8 and if my memory is right bush button drive for sale about a half mile from my house. My parents never had a car and I figured I was the only kid in the whole school who's parents did not drive. It got worse as I realized many families had two or even three vehicles and we didn't even have one. I made a deal for the Dodge. I paid $30 for it and the guy agreed to deliver it to my house. I waited all day for my Dad to come home to see his 'surprise' parked in front of the house. He let me down gently as he explained that he appreciated what I had done but was not interested in being a car owner. He phoned the guy who sold me the car, explained what happened, and the car went back and I got the $30 back which I put back into the bank. I had a paper-route and was saving for the 1957 Chevy Bel-Air 2-door hardtop I had longed for. I even had purchased some accessories for it ahead of time. I had taken a bus into the City (Syracuse NY) months before my sixteenth birthday and picked up a driver's manual and an application for the permit. I memorized every word in that manual and the week I turned sixteen I was back on the bus to Syracuse with money in hand heading for the DMV. I got a perfect score on the written test and left the DMV that day with my permit. I will never forget it. Then reality set in. I had no one to take me out driving. No older brothers or sisters. I had plenty of relatives but they were all in Boston. A guy I knew from school had his license and just got his first car, a '56 Ford V-8 (292 I think) two-door sedan. I hardly knew him. By this time I'd had my permit for almost a year and hadn't driven once. One day the guy in the '56 Ford, Lee, stopped by my house. I remember him asking me why I hadn't told him about my permit and my dilemma. I explained that after watching my parents bumming rides from people all my life I just couldn't bring myself to impose on somebody. He walked me out to his car, handed me the keys, and said "let's go". My parents were happy for me. Then they laid it on me. A friend of their's was a car salesman and had convinced them a used Volvo he had on his lot would be the perfect first car for me. And he would be stopping over to take me for a test ride the next day. I was horrified but said nothing. My parents knew absolutely nothing about cars but they meant well and were of course trying to do the right thing. I spent the next 24 hours trying to figure out how to get out of the test ride but couldn't. I had taken me two or three years to save $800 from my paper route for that '57 and now I had to give it to a guy for a car I did not want. I waited on the front porch the next afternoon and sure enough I saw it coming down the street, a RED Volvo Sedan. OH NO !! I took my first step into manhood that day as my instincts must have taken over. He pulled up to the house and opened the passenger door for me. I got in and after the introductions just calmly told him the truth. I had my heart set on that '57 and the test ride was really just a waste of his time and money. He took me for a ride anyway and insisted I drive it just for fun. I never heard from him after that. By now I was seventeen and about ready to make my road test appointment. I was a senior in high school and taking Transportation Shop. We called it "T Shop". I was working part time after school at a Texaco Station for $1.25 an hour. Regular gas was 29 cents a gallon and high test 32 cents. There was plenty of room beind the school and any student who had a car could bring it up to the school and work on it during class. One of the guys had a '52 Chevy. We pulled, rebuilt and reinstalled the inline six. Then just after school started in September I found my '57. It was aqua with a white top and aqua interior. 54,000 miles. 283 and powerglide. $750. I could not find a '57 Bel-Air two-door hardtop with a 235. The car was in Syracuse and my Dad paid to have it towed the fifteen miles or so to the high school. I would get to work on my car during school hours! We cleaned it, serviced it, tuned it and painted it black. Then I took my road test in Lee's Ford. I remember he had put tape over the gear indicator window for the automatic transmission so I would have to learn by memory. Now that I had my license I needed insurance and got my first lesson in finances. I borrowed the $255 dollars I needed for insurance from the bank and when I got the payment book quickly realized repaying the bank $27 a month for 12 months = $324 payback. The best part of this whole story is suddenly, my parents, who never had a car, could not get through one day without having me running errands or taking them somewhere or picking them up! It was a great feeling not having them bumming rides anymore! And of course I was anxious and willing to do the driving. I also took my younger brother out driving and he got his license. Then I took my Dad, at age 52, down to the DMV to get his permit and license and his first car. My Mom did not want a license. Everyone in town had Crager's on their cars but I loved the Mickey Thompson 5-spoke Challenger wheels with the three prong spinners that look like knock-offs and put a set on the '57. They were $27 each at the local speed shop. I would keep this car forever. I kept it spotless. One day I noticed a small bubble above the side trim above the rear wheel. I figured the paint was lifting and poked it to see what would happen. My finger went right through the fender. I could not understand why. I thought if you kept the car clean it would never rust and last forever. Then someone told me it was rusting through from behind. Another day I will never forget. The Central New York Winter and the salt they drop onto the roads was eating my car. I was crushed. The '57 got me through college but by then she was badly rusted. I bought a '66 Corvette Roadster, 45,000 miles, 327/300 horse four-speed for $2000 and rented a garage to store the '57. I did not want to part with it but eventually gave her to a guy from out of town who said he might try to save her but if not could use it for parts. I said goodbye to the car I loved so much. Another day I will never forget. I had to put the Corvette away for the winters and have a second car. The only part of that '57 I saved were the Mickey Thompson wheels even though they also were ruined by the winter weather. Maybe you remember them. The spokes are aluminum and rivited to a chrome plated steel rim. The spokes are fine but the chrome lifts off the rim as it gradually rusts. The rivets are "twist rivets" and impossible to remove. After waiting for 30 years for someone to reproduce these wheels Radir Wheels in New Jersey did. The Radir's are one-piece aluminum and I have them on my '74 Chevelle. I get a lot of compliments on them.
In my high school shop class my friend had a '51 Plymouth with the flathead six and three on the tree manual tranny. The two of us did a four wheel brake job on her. When we finished he told me I could take the first drive to test the new brakes and he would watch. There was a big hill behind the school and I took her around the parking lot then down the hill and back up to the parking lot. My shop teacher, Mr. Cook, one of the greatest guys you could ever meet and my favorite teacher, was waiting for me and standing next to my friend. He had one question: "Ken, do you really think taking a car down a steep hill is the best way to test a fresh brake job?" I had to think fast and answered "I've got a lot of confidence in my work." He suggested I think before ever doing something like that again, then grinned and my friend laughed. That was 38 years ago. Incredibly last summer I spotted him at a car cruise. He remembered me. He didn't remember the brake job story but he told me a good one. He asked me if I ever heard about what two guys in my class, Jim and Buzzy, did to him. I said no. We were the last class of day. One afternoon as the class ended he was putting the tools away in the tool 'closet' after the students filed out of the shop. Suddenly the closet door slammed shut behind him and somehow locked. He was trapped in the closet and even with a closet full of tools could not get out. He was in there for quite a few hours before finally the janitor heard him pounding on the door. He was not happy and he did catch the guys who did it - Jim and Buzzy.
My friend Lee and I both have our own families now of course and now our kids are driving. Every once in a while I remind them if it wasn't for your Dad I might have never gotten my license! Goodnight,
Ken